


Transformers Smut

by DeadByDawnlight



Category: Transformers - All Media Types, Transformers: Prime
Genre: Creampie, F/M, Light Bondage, Love/Hate, Oral Sex, Other, Rape/Non-con Elements, Sticky Sexual Interfacing
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-06-20
Updated: 2018-06-20
Packaged: 2019-05-25 21:11:09
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,104
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14985662
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/DeadByDawnlight/pseuds/DeadByDawnlight
Summary: Requests from Wattpad.





	1. Megatron x OC!Femme

This is beyond overdue.  
For: Shadow_Prime ((I miss you!))  
\-------------------------------------------

Solarwind groans as her optics finally online for the first time in joors. Her back strut is incredibly stiff from laying against the metal wall of her cell and her joints ache in protest. Her internal chronometer tells her it was late in Earth time; probably dark. 

Using her wings to help herself push up off of the wall, Solarwind takes in her surroundings now that she can stand up at full height. The room is small, dark and has a cold edge to it like surgical steel. Her golden optics cast another glance around the room before she finds it.

There. Upper left corner.

A well-blended silver panel for the room and door controls. Standing on the tip of her pedes, Sol manages to unlatch the cover of the control box. Inside is a mess of dark wires and fuses, more than a few of them leading to alarm charges.

Previous battle experience with a demolitions femme known as Arcee taught her which wires were safe to disconnect. A dark blue was removed and the light in the ceiling clicked off. 

Slaggit. Wrong one.

She tried the red wire and the door unlocked and opened with a smooth hiss. Solar wind poked her helm experimentally outside of the door, looking down the empty halls of the Nemesis. Tucking her wings low, she crept out into the corridor. A stench of energon pushed past her olfactory sensora and when she found the source, the sight nearly made her purge her tanks on the floor. The med bay window was splattered from top to bottom in the dried energon of a Vehicon currently strapped to Knockout's vivisection table. The cold air sent a chill through her frame, and she had to resist the urge to wrap her arms around herself. 

The Decepticons were truly monstrous. 

The young Autobot had barely rounded the next corner when the ship's alarm blared angrily through her audio receptors. It seems Soundwave had spotted her. The sounds of Vehicon pedes quickly filled the halls and Sol knew she had to move fast. 

The femme sped down the long corridors of the Nemesis until she hits a dead end. There are two rooms on either side of the hall, and the vehicons are almost upon her. She decides to head through the left. 

The door opens and Solar quickly locks it shut, hearing the vehicons pass the dead end room. She would exvent a sigh of relief if it weren't for the large servo that had clasped itself around her throat. Solarwind's optics barely have a moment to widen before she's thrown into the opposite wall of the room.

The air in her vents is pushed roughly from her frame and it takes her a minute to figure out what has attacked her. But as soon as her optics land on him, her energon freezes in her cables. 

There, in all of his battle-worn glory, is Lord Megatron of the Decepticons. "Ah, so there's our little Autobot. Come to offer information in exchange for your miserable little life? Or, since you ran straight to my private quarters, perhaps you have something else to offer?"

Defiance crosses her features for a moment as she growls back at him, "I will never hand over information about the Autobots, Megatron!" 

The mech chuckles as he stalks around her, much like the way turbo foxes preyed on petrorabbits back on Cybertron. It sends a shiver down her backstrut, and her wings flatten against the wall bahind her. 

"Hmm, perhaps I can persuade you to change your mind."

He's on her in a moment, and a swift backhand to her cheek plating renders her unconscious once more.  
\-------

Solarwind wakes up in Megatron's berth room once more, only this time, she's been cuffed. The metal of the cuffs have been magnetized to the ceiling, and she's too small to use just her weight to break free. 

"I was beginning to wonder if I'd really offlined an Autobot with a single hit."  
Megatron is leaning against a desk, arms crossed and bright crimson optics on her. A look that way too relaxed for such a serious mech. 

Solarwind regards him fondly with a dismissive, "Frag off." Megatron's expression remains ever stoic and impassive, but he pushes himself off of the desk to come up to her. He swiftly dodges and grabs the offending pede that tries to connect itself with his cod piece. So, she likes to play dirty too? Interesting.

Using the grip he has on her pede, the Decepticon war lord steps in between her legs and pulls the one he has in his servo over his hip plating, pressing her lithe frame into his. He grips her chin almost cruelly. "Behave, little Autobot. Then maybe I won't have to send you back to Prime in pieces."

She spits at him, a small bit of oral lubricant hitting his cheek. His temper flares for a moment before settling back into calm and mostly controlled. "Let us find a better use for that glossa of yours, shall we?"

His talons slightly dig into her cheek plating and jaw, parting her lips just wide enough for him to lunge forward and slant his mouth over hers. The femme squeaks in confusion before trying to bite his lower lip. Solar catches the soft mesh and bites down, his energon flooding her mouth and chin. 

His time, Megatron does actually lose his temper and he back hands her a second time. It's not nearly as hard as the first time, but it gets his point across. As her optics slowly look back over at him in front of her, he truly does look like Kaon's mightiest warrior: blood dripping down his chin and expression deadly.

Megatron tries a different tactic. The mech crosses the room and pulls another type of handcuff from his personal artillery. These are made for broader, wider Cybertronians with one cuff on either side of a long bar.   
(Totally not a spreader bar.)

 

Stepping back in front of the femme and missing another of Solar's kicks, Megatron manages to cuff each pede. Legs sprwad and hanging from his rafters was an enticing look for her. For an Autobot. 

Megatron grips the bar and puts it behind his helm, her legs now resting on his broad shoulders.

"W-Wait! Stop! What are you doing?"

"Hush, femme."

He presses a soft spot in the transformation seams near her valve plating and her panel opens before him. Her valve is a pretty shade of teal, and he realizes that hes going to have a hard time getting rid of this Autobot.

Solar has started to flail uselessly above him, so he quickly busies his glossa on her valve in smooth, languid strokes. Her frame tenses and shudders before going nearly lax in her bonds. Megatron's slowly pressuruzing spike throbs behind his codpiece at the sight, but he won't take her until she begs him for it. 

One of the warrior's talons delves itself into her sensitive valve, making the femme arch against her bonds and mewl pleasurably. He works her until she's writhing and on the edge of overload before he begins the first part of his game.

"How many relics do the Autobots have, Solarwind?"

It takes her a moment to register he has said something through the warm haze that had settled through her processor and the energon practically pounding in her audials. "Wait... W-What?"

"How many relics have the Autobots collected, femme?"

She starts to struggle against him again, denial of her close overload making her furious, and Megatron has to remove his servo from inside if her to hold her thighs still. "I'm not telling you scrap, you aft. Let go of me!"

He manages to plunge his glossa into her valve through her flailing around, and her body seizes up instantly at the stimulation. "Gah! Mmfff--" Solarwind throws her helm back with parted lips, thighs tightening around his helm. He was unbelievably good with his glossa and the way her excess lubricant dripped down his chin was proof of such. His optics never left hers for a moment, crimson searing into her gold and another wave of arousal sparked its way through her systems. 

Sensing her overload approaching again, the warlord slowly withdrew his long, silver glossa from her again. "How many?"

With a whine, she shamelessly attempted to buck against him and seek his attentions instead. It made him smirk and trace her valve opening with one of his talons. "I didn't hear you, femme."

Optimus can tell at her later. "Nngh... T-Two... We have two. Now will you please let me overload already?"

"As you wish."

Megatron stood up and slid her legs from his shoulders to his slender waist, unlatching his codpiece and relieving the pressure against his hard spike. He wasnt obscenely long like a seeker model wpuld be, but what he doesn't have in length he certainly makes up for in girth. His dark grey spike juts forward and curves upward near the tip. Dark red nodes line the sides of his length and her mouth lubricates at the sight of it. 

His spike tip catches on the rim of her valve and then he's pushing inside of her, burying himself one long thrust at a time. Its barely noticable that he's a bit out of practice. The larger mech growls lowly in his chest as he hits the end of her valve, the low timbre vibrating through her spark. 

Solar moans softly into his audials and Megatron's talons flex and slightly dig into her aft plating. It's been so long since he's bedded a femme and the thought of keeping Solarwind tied up in his suite makes lubricant pool in his jaws. 

Solar's arm cables ache in protest above her, and she tugs on them uselessly. Cleverly, the dark mech inside of her demagnetizes the cuffs from the ceiling and puts her still-cuffed arms around his neck. The femme sighs in relief and rests her helm on his shoulder, his thrusts still drawing moans and gasps from her vocalizer.

Megatron is content with her obedience, and carries her over to the berth. Without removing his spike from her warm sheath, he desposits her gently onto his soft, black sheets. He hovers over her, rutting into her lithe form. Solar's lip plates are mere inches away from the Decepticon leader's, and she decides if she's going to die soon, she'll make it worth her while. 

Her glossa wets her bottom lip before she leans up and kisses Kaon's warrior. His thrusts falter for a moment in surprise.

Solar moans quietly against his mouth impatiently and lust seizes him. He groans low and presses his kiss roughly against her lips. A long, dark grey glossa glides against her own in swift, smooth motions; the same one that was buried between her thighs a breem earlier. 

A rather sharp thrust breaks their oral play as the femme throws her helm back on the berth. Her optics offlined, Megatron takes the opportunity to use an unoccupied servo to lift her aft up at an angle that pushes his girthy spike into her ceiling node repeatedly. He barely withdraws from her, now just pushing harder and harder against her inner walls. 

Solarwind bucks helplessly with him, heat flushing her faceplates as a particularly deep thrust pushes her into a rough overload. Static clouds the scream that forces itself through her lips, and her valve clenches into a hard vice around his spike.

An unholy roar echoes through the room as Megatron hilts himself as far as her valve can physically go and spurts rope after thick rope of warm transluid inside of her. After he's filled her, he braces himself on an arm and buries his helm next to hers in an almost affectionate gesture. Almost.

Solar exvents harshly, the fullness and pressure in her abdominal plating leaving her winded and unwilling to move from beneath the hulking mass of mech above her. He lifts himself after a few moments, sliding unwillingly from her valve and removing the spreader bar from her pedes. He does the same with her cuffs. Before he steps away he looks back at her parted thighs and the sight afterwards nearly pressurizes his spike again instantly. 

His fluid is steadily dripping from her abused hole, pooling onto the sheets below her. He smirks wolfishly in satisfaction.

Certain she won't move, he moves to the adjoining washroom to clean off his lower armor. And when he catches his visage and her lubricant all over his own thighs in the mirror, he can only chuckle darkly to himself.

He's never sending her back to Prime.  
\---------------------------------------------------------


	2. Optimus x Reader!Femme

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> It's been a rough night, and you could use a little help cleaning up.

Request for: BumblebeeGirlz26  
\----------------------------

It was dark by the time you had returned back to the Autobot base. A small encounter with a group of Vehicons had worn heavily on your frame. Paint chipped here, plating dented there. Dirt smudged your faceplates and grainy Nevada sand was lodged in the most unpleasant of places. The base was quiet while the others were recharging, making it easy to slip down the hallway to your hab suite. Pressing in the access code, you enter the darkened room. Dirty pede prints make their way down to the bathroom door and turn on the shower. Steam fills the small room as you check the mirror for any cuts and scrapes from tonight's battle. A small gash in your lower lip plating catches your eye and you brush a thumb over it carefully before turning your attention back to the water.

 

Stepping into the spacious shower enclosure you sigh as the warmth seeps into your seams pleasantly. Offlining your optics, you tip your helm back against the wall and let the water cascade down your frame in rivulets, dirt and dried energon sliding into the drain below. Your small servos are rubbing the aches from your stiff neck cabling when an idea comes to mind. You shoot a quick message to Optimus, telling him that you made it back to base and that you were going to shower before recharge. He'd understand the meaning. A sharp spike of heat nestles itself in between your thighs. You part your legs just slightly,sliding your servo into your lubricating valve. The unoccupied arm braces itself against the damp shower wall as your optics offline again focusing on the coil of heat building in your tanks. 

You don't even hear Optimus step into the shower until his chassis presses against your backstrut, but you don't stop playing with your slick valve even as his olfactory sensor nuzzles your neck cabling. "Starting without me, lieutenant?"

You hum softly in reply as the red and blue mech slips the pad of one of his servo tips over your busy fingers and into the your valve. His finger curls and rubs your ceiling node pleasantly, making your back arch and your aft press into his codpiece. His ministrations feel good, but you're too impatient. Your servos itch to touch him; to run your servos over his broad chassis. Optimus doesn't give you the chance though and instead lifts your right pede onto the small bench in the enclosure. His fingers explore you fully now, pushing and prodding deeper into your valve and your helm thuds dully into the wall as your backstrut arches pleasurably. His groan of approval sends a fresh wave of arousal to your core, dousing his fingers.

Optimus gets you dangerously close to the edge of your overload when he removes his fingers from you; a small whine of disapproval rising in your chest. He doesn't leave you empty for long before the head of his spike is gliding past your folds and into the warm heat of your entrance. You both groan in unison as the Autobot leader bottoms out against your ceiling node. He's incredibly massive, and even after all of the nights you two have interfaced, you still have to rise up on the tip of your pedes to alleviate the pressure at the end of your valve. And there's probably at least another half of a servo's length of him left to take. 

Not happening.

You grit your dentae as he starts off slow, exventing sweet words into your audials and reaching up to rub your sides and chest plating lovingly. Optimus himself is having trouble not to spill himself the way your insides are fluttering around his shaft. His exvents are deep intakes of air as he tries to ground himself through the haze in his processor. The warmth of the shower water hits his backstrut pleasantly, adding to the dull pull in his bearings. It's be so easy to lose himself inside of you, but he's a gentlemech first and foremost.

An idea comes to mind.

Just as you're getting used to his tremendous girth, he withdraws himself once more, only to sit on the bench and pull your small frame over top of his, your legs on either side of his narrow waist. Tentatively, you lower yourself onto his spike; servos gripping his shoulder plating. His helm nearly shatters the reinforced glass of the wall as the pleasurable ridges of his spike stuff themselves into your   
valve. Optimus' spike glides easily inside of you now, shared droplets of lubricant dripping onto his thighs. Without thinking, his hips buck upwards and hilt the rest of his spike against your ceiling node. The pressure leaves you nealy winded, and gasping of air, and the small twitch of your insides makes Optimus do it again.

Soon, you're both thrusting in unison, pants and moans mingling under the warm water and steamy fog. Optimus growls and you know he's nearing the end of his rope. You reach between the two of you and circle your middle digit over your exterior node. You keen softly as you feel the pressure coil and twist before an explosion of warmth and bliss short out your vocalizer and your valve grips onto Optimus' large shaft like a vice. The normally well-composed Auobot Leader bites out a curse as he slams your hips down a final time to overfill your valve with his hot, sticky tranfluid. The transluscent blue fluid gushes from your valve and smears onto both of your thighs and onto the bench, steadily dripping into the shower drain.

Panting softly, his low chuckle sounds in your audials. "It seems as if your shower was a bit counterproductive."

You smile and pull back enough to brush a kiss against his lip plates. "Help me clean up?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I've got my laptop back! More to come~
> 
> -War

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you all for reading. <3  
> ~War, Out.


End file.
